PERFORMING ARTS

Kennedy Center Chamber Players

Beneath the veneer of relaxation with which violinist Nurit Bar-Josef introduces the Kennedy Center Chamber Players' concerts lies intensity strong enough to snap a string -- which is just what Bar-Josef did on Sunday at the Terrace Theater, midway through the finale of Beethoven's String Trio No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 9. Understandably flustered -- this is every string player's nightmare -- she rushed offstage and returned, restrung, to finish the work, whose quiescent ending seemed even more subdued than usual. Violist Daniel Foster and cellist David Hardy made the best of things, as did Bar-Josef herself, but the players' easy familiarity with the music could not restore its shattered mood.

Both the emotion and the harmonic language are very different in Bohuslav Martinu's Duo No. 2 for Violin and Cello. Written in 1958, it is lyrical in a mid-20th-century way. Bar-Josef and Hardy evoked the heart and soul of the central Adagio, in which the violin sings in long lines while the cello strums like a guitar. The nostalgia spread in the finale, whose Czech dance rhythms evoked a time gone by.

Bar-Josef, Foster and Hardy were joined by violinist Natasha Bogachek and violist Abigail Evans for Brahms's String Quintet No.2, Op. 111, a work usually deemed "autumnal." Actually, it is full of bright dance rhythms, notwithstanding the two violas' dark hue, and the players brought out its wistful youthfulness to fine effect. The third movement's gentle flow gave way to strong rhythmic accentuation in the finale, which ended with a great burst of speed in which, thankfully, no one came unstrung.

-- Mark J. Estren

Efe Baltacigil

It took a moment to realize that Efe Baltacigil was singing, his almost weightless falsetto floating above the warm, rough-grained tones of his cello.

As he performed Hasan Ucarsu's "Turku" at the Jewish Community Center of Greater Washington Sunday night, Baltacigil's barely audible voice, combined with impetuous slides and effusive trills, gave the sense that he was transported by the dark, Gypsy-like style of the Turkish composer's modern folk song.

This impulsive, emotional approach carried throughout his recital. Particularly in Dmitri Shostakovich's Sonata in D Minor, virtuosic runs, strummed broken chords and furious plucks seemed to be unplanned, unabashed outbursts of passion and boisterous humor. If occasionally his playing tended toward reckless, his technical capability and emotional pliancy remained unmistakable.

Baltacigil's sound had a rustic appeal, but in the Shostakovich, it came across as nasal and leathery in comparison to pianist Anna Polonsky's silkier timbre. Baltacigil is an exciting performer with a strong musical identity, but Polonsky was more consistently captivating, especially in transitions. In her fingers, a chromatic scale or a single chord held and released could become tantalizing or profound. She was equally convincing in music that called for delicacy (Beethoven's variations on "Ein Maedchen oder Weibchen" from "Die Zauberflote") and that which demanded heft (Brahms's Cello Sonata No. 2 in F ).

The Brahms Sonata takes no time to build -- a cavalier, leaping cello theme sets the tone, and it maintains motion and tension throughout. As excited tremolandos and swirling, obsessively repeated themes steadily intensified, both performers played at full capacity -- and to thrilling effect.

-- Ronni Reich

Irish Chamber Orchestra

Sibelius's String Quartet in D Minor was the feature of the Irish Chamber Orchestra's performance at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center on Sunday afternoon. The work's beauties are limitless. There are those running triplets, which imbue ceaseless energy and a feeling of expansiveness; in come those quiet chords of the anguished Adagio, a product of the composer's abstruse directions in the score ("Intimate Voices" please). Beyond European Union membership, there is little obvious connection between Ireland and Sibelius's Finland home, but the Limerick-based group's idiomatic and rapt performance suggests a secret musical alliance.

A more likely explanation is chemistry. The youthful players work wonderfully with their intelligent director, British violinist Anthony Marwood. They brought a warm, agile and clean sound. Focused unisons conjured images of white-hot comet centers with celestial trails. Busier sequences can emerge ponderous in such orchestral arrangements, yet in this driving account, only a few passages moved more like a sedan than a sports car.

Ireland, not a traditional classical music epicenter, now has several fine composers; Gerald Barry is one. The ensemble brought out the dissonant spikes of his "La Jalousie Taciturne," smartly moving without pause into three movements from Bach's "Art of Fugue." Again, no readily apparent connections, but the tie-in worked, perhaps because both scores deal more in novel patterns than emotional displays. It was also nice to hear Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in D Minor instead of his overplayed E Minor piece; Marwood dispatched the solo part with golden tone and surefire musicianship.

-- Daniel Ginsberg